


pulling at the daisies

by shadowdance



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-08 02:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8826946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowdance/pseuds/shadowdance
Summary: For Ephraim, it's one thing to hear his sister is marrying someone. It's completely another thing to hear that the person is Innes, of all people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for a friend!! this was due in august but i'm lame so now it's a christmas gift.  
> based on innes/eirika ending!

Ephraim’s hands are coated with his best friend’s blood when Innes approaches him. There is blood on his arrows and a grim expression on his face, one that mirrors Tana’s exactly. For a moment, Ephraim is taken aback, but then he calms himself down, reminding himself they’re siblings, of course Tana and Innes look alike in certain aspects.

(But not their personalities—this is probably why he’s taken aback.)

“What do you want?” he snaps, too tired to take any of Innes’s insults. He hasn’t quite forgotten what Innes said to him after his father died, mocking his carelessness.

Innes appears to struggle with his words for a moment. “It’s about your sister,” he says, and his voice is—level. Calm. Something that Ephraim wouldn’t expect from the archer, but Ephraim is far too exhausted to even feign surprise. At the mention of Eirika, though, something pulses in his veins—fear, maybe, although he doesn’t act on it like he usually does.

“What happened to Eirika?” Ephraim asks, and looks at his lance. Lyon’s blood coats the tip, but he knows he could probably still use it. Innes shakes his head, though, and taps his chest.

“Nothing happened. Well, sort of.” He coughs; the arrogant Prince of Frelia, struggling with what to say in front of _Ephraim_. That’s not a sight you see everyday. “I fell in love with your sister during the war.”

Ephraim blinks. Once, twice. It sort of feels like someone has rammed the hilt of a sword in his chest—not hard enough to kill, just knock the air out of him. “You _what_?”

“I fell in love with Eirika,” Innes says, very matter-of-factly. “And I wish to marry her, but there’s a task I need to do first.”

“You don’t have my consent to marry her,” Ephraim says, through gritted teeth. Innes lets out a humorless laugh, sharp like the edge of his arrows.

“You’re involved in the task, actually.” He pauses, runs his fingers through his blood-slicked hair. “I need to defeat you in a duel, you see. For Eirika’s heart. We do this in Frelia quite often, and it’s easy to see why Eirika would wish not to court anyone with you around.”

 _Your words are fucking ridiculous,_ Ephraim thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud. The whole idea seems ludicrous, and he starts to say, “Innes, I recognize you…uh, love my sister, but Renais is kind of-”

Innes cuts him off. “Ephraim, I’m smart. I’ve been thinking about this in my spare time.” Which must really say that he’s either dedicated or stupid, but Ephraim holds his tongue. “After Renais is reconstructed, I’ll officially challenge you to a duel. I’ll send some men from Frelia to help you as well.”

“Doesn’t that seem sort of ridiculous to you?” Ephraim asks, digging his dirty fingernails in the palm of his gloves. “Just sending men over to hurry up the construction so you can marry my sister?”

Innes surveys the broken land around them, the chunks of dirt ripped from the earth and the streaks of ashes the dragon’s fire left. “I’m not just sending men over so I can marry your sister,” he says. “Renais needs all the help it will get, and I suppose I need to start acting like a king when I eventually become one.”

Ephraim smirks. “Well, would you look at that. War changed you.”

Innes rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Ephraim.” For once, however, there is no venom in his voice.

__

 

“Hey,” Ephraim says, when they’re back in Renais, “how do you feel about Innes?”

Eirika has been polishing her blade for a long time. The blood has long been scraped off, but Ephraim gets this feeling that she can see the blood in her mind, so she keeps on cleaning it. She gives him a suspicious glance. “Where did this come from?”

Ephraim shrugs. He has to be careful playing this game; Eirika isn’t nearly as impulsive as he is, but she’s pretty easy to crack. “Nothing. I just talked to Innes after the battle, and-”

Eirika cuts him off, mumbling, “That little _ass_ ,” before throwing her sword down and stomping past Ephraim, raking her fingers through her hair. “What did he say?” She refuses to look at him.

“He said he wanted to duel me,” Ephraim says, and then nearly laughs, because he doesn’t use swords and neither does Innes. So it’d probably be a very shitty duel in any case, and probably end quickly. “You know...I think he wants to marry you.”

“I think I got that,” Eirika responds sharply, hands balled at her sides. “But really—it’s a preposterous idea. Are you really going to take him up on it?” Her voice is laced with disbelief, and she’s almost scoffing at the idea—that Ephraim would never do it. And she’s a little right, except Ephraim has another question set aside.

He looks at her, right in the eyes—they are the exact same color, and it’s like staring into his reflection. “Quick question, sister. Do you love Innes too?”

Eirika stumbles backwards like he hit her. Her cheeks flush bright red, and she starts sputtering out a string of words that don’t really connect. Ephraim waits, but he thinks he already knows the answer, coming from his suddenly incoherent sister.

“I don’t—I don’t _know_ ,” Eirika finally spits out, although her face is still red. “I don’t know. I _don’t_ , so stop looking at me like that!” Ephraim rolls his eyes, reaching out and ruffling her hair. He knows Eirika, and he knows when she denies things more than once, it’s a telltale sign she feels the exact opposite.

“I don’t believe that,” he says, “and I’ll fight him in a duel, as he offered. But really now,” and in Eirika’s eyes he can see his reflection, an amused look rolling over his face, “Innes, of all people? Couldn’t you at least pick someone with more charm, and, I don’t know, who doesn’t hate your brother’s guts?”

Eirika rolls her eyes; her cheeks are still stained red, but she manages to sound calm. “You don’t know,” she replies. “Maybe I picked him to spite you.”

“So you do like him?” Ephraim smirks, and Eirika grabs her sword before chasing after him.

__ 

 

As promised, Innes sends men over to help reconstruct Renais. At least 20 men, which isn’t enough, of course, but Ephraim sends his thanks anyways. He gets no reply, but that’s expected.

In contrast, Eirika is writing letters almost everyday. She’s sending them to L’arachel and Tana; that’s what Ephraim knows. She’s always been writing to Tana ever since they were children, and she’s so close with L’arachel Ephraim would be _surprised_ if she didn’t. Sometimes he catches her writing, but he doesn’t ever ask her who she’s writing to or what it’s about. It’s not his business, as he tells himself over and over, and he knows some of his worries are because he thinks she’s writing Innes. And if she is, it’s not _his_ deal anyways, so he pushes it far from his mind.

Of course, there are other things to distract his mind. Rebuilding Renais is the main factor; with Kyle and Seth, Ephraim plans the outlines of the cities, and Forde sketches the proposed ideas. It’s a lot of work, and Ephraim is so distracted he almost forgets about Eirika and Innes. _Almost_.

“So did someone propose to Eirika?” Forde asks one day, when he’s sketching and Ephraim is leaning against the wall, rifling through some important documents he has to review. Ephraim nearly drops his papers, but Forde remains unfazed, steadily stroking the paper with his quill.

“No,” he snaps, his voice a little sharp. Then: “How could you tell?”

There is a hint of a smile in Forde’s voice, but his back still faces Ephraim. “A lot of people ask that. I’m not stupid, just observant.”

It crosses Ephraim’s mind not to underestimate Forde again. Not like he has in the first place, but between Kyle or Forde, he’s been more wary of Kyle. “I guess so. Well, it was Innes, but I haven’t heard anything from him, and we’re supposed to duel when Renais is rebuilt.”

“Innes proposed to Eirika?” Forde muses, and there is amusement sparking in his tone. “I would’ve never guessed it. Vanessa might be disappointed, then, although if my hunch is correct, I don’t think she’ll be too upset.” He’s silent, and Ephraim thinks (or rather, hopes) the conversation is over when he speaks again. “Are _you_ upset? You seem to have mixed feelings on the matter.”  
  
Ephraim snorts. “It’s strange to have my sister fall in love with someone. Add in Innes being the someone, because Innes _hates_ me-”

“I don’t know about that.” Forde shrugs. “He might’ve hated you in the past, but if he really loves Eirika, he would’ve thought about you. You have to add family in when you want to marry someone, so Innes sees he has to earn your respect to marry her. I think that’s the basis for the duel, too.”

“When did _you_ get so knowledgeable?”

Forde smirks. Silence relapses between them, and Ephraim continues to shuffle his papers. They stay like this for awhile, until the chair scrapes backwards and Forde hands the designs to Ephraim.

“I think it’s done. After we rebuild Renais, I’m taking that vacation you promised.” He smiles, and Ephraim takes the sketch lightly, sliding it over his other papers. “By the way, it’s Vanessa. That’s why I know so much in this particular subject.”

He waves before slipping out the wooden door. It clanks behind him, and leaves Ephraim alone in silence.

__

 

Forde’s sketch is exactly what Ephraim planned in his head. He and Eirika carry out them out, watching as Renais is gradually restored to its former glory. Forde leaves for Frelia shortly before Renais is finished, claiming he has to visit someone, but he leaves Ephraim with the painting he’d shown him during the war. Ephraim hangs it up in the main hall, and whenever he finds Forde’s absence bothering him, he casts one look at the painting. Somehow it pushes him to persevere.

Eirika is still writing letters during all of this; she sends them to lords and L’arachel, who, in an attempt to one-up Innes, sent about 40 people to help. As far as Ephraim knows, Eirika sent two letters to both Innes and L’arachel, thanking them for the help, although he has a feeling she’s still continuing to write to them about other things. It’s just a hunch, but Eirika tends to flush bright red whenever he brings up _letters_ and _Innes_ in the same sentence, and she doesn’t have this same reaction when he talks about L’arachel and sending letters to her. He doesn’t question this, of course; it’s Eirika’s business, not his. He still takes pleasure in teasing her about it, though, and when she storms off with a bright red face, he knows he hit something.

(And he’s right, because one day a messenger gives him a letter without an envelope, assuming it’s his. In fact, though, it’s from Innes, and it’s full of prose and poetry and things Ephraim didn’t know Innes was capable of. It makes him gag, but for the sake of pretending he did not read the letter, he puts it in an envelope and delivers it in front of Eirika’s room. Signed, sealed, and delivered.) 

__

 

Ephraim doesn’t get a message from Innes until Renais is almost completed, and though his duties don’t dwindle down, he is able to relax more. Only then does he get a letter, and there are only three words on it: _I challenge you._

 __

 

“This is really ridiculous,” Eirika huffs, crossing her arms as Ephraim picks up a sword and sizes it up. “You don’t need to do this, it’s so stupid-”

“Do you hear me complaining?” Ephraim practices some basic moves in the air—he’s no swordsman, but he is glad he trained with Forde and Kyle when it came to swords. At the very least, he knows some basic skills. “I know it’s stupid, but if it makes Innes shut up, then I’m all for it.”

Eirika sighs, her hand resting on the rack of swords. “Are you going to let him win?”

“Do you _want_ me to?” Ephraim asks, tugging his gloves on. Eirika folds her arms and looks away, and Ephraim knows his sister well enough to know it’s a yes. “Look, I’m going to give it my all, since it’s a duel. But you shouldn’t underestimate your fiancée, he might be better at swords than we anticipate.”

“He is not my fiancée,” Eirika snaps, flushing bright red. She mumbles a few words that sound like _not yet,_ but Ephraim doesn’t prod on this.

They walk out together, where Tana hovers near the sidelines and Innes is swinging around a sword of his own. He locks eyes with Ephraim briefly, before shifting his gaze to Eirika. She rolls her eyes and then storms up to him, crossing her arms and scowling.

“I hope you realize this is really ridiculous,” she snarls. “It’s really _stupid_ , you shouldn’t have to fight Ephraim to ‘win my heart’-”

“Why not?” Innes smirks. “He’s the only person left.”

“He’s my _brother_!”

Innes shrugs. “Yeah, and he might not give his blessing if I don’t defeat him, you realize that? And besides, I still await your answer.”

“You never gave me a chance to tell you, you infuriating man-”

They start to bicker, and Tana immediately moves over to Ephraim’s side, rolling her eyes. “Sorry,” she says. “They’re both so _stubborn_. Do you think Eirika can change his mind?”

“Doubtful,” Ephraim replies, keeping his eyes on the couple. “Knowing my sister, and knowing Innes, we’ll just end up back at square one.”

Tana sighs, clasping her hands together. “I _do_ hope they end up married—I want to see Eirika more. And she’s one of the few people who can handle Innes.”

“Is Innes capable with a sword?” Ephraim asks abruptly, watching the way Innes casually props the sword in the ground. Tana follows his gaze and snorts.

“He’s better than he looks like it, so don’t underestimate him.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ephraim says, as Innes and Eirika finish their argument; Eirika’s face is bright red, but she grudgingly shuffles towards the sidelines. Tana gives Ephraim a look that clearly says _good luck_ before flitting off to join Eirika. This leaves Innes, wielding a sword and a smirk.

“Ready?” he asks, and Ephraim feels a slight jolt of nerves in his stomach, then a little flicker of spite. This is not Innes, who has treated him with neutrality, this is Innes, his rival. Ephraim puts on a matching smirk and steps forward.

“En garde,” he says, and it begins.

 

__

 

Suffice to say, Tana was right: Innes _is_ more competent than he looks with a sword. Ephraim would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised, but the truth is he didn’t expect this level of swordsmanship from Innes. He doesn’t believe Innes expects his sword experience, though, because the smirk on Innes’s face gradually morphs into a frustrated, determined look.

Neither one are willing to back down, and from side-eyed glimpses Ephraim catches Tana covering her face with her hands, and Eirika, leaning forward, her expression tight. It’s probably this that causes Ephraim to stumble a little bit, and Innes to seize his advantage—although not without a downfall, because Ephraim manages to shove him off and then they both drop their swords.

For a moment, both of them just stare at each other, and then at the swords lying on the ground. Ephraim glances at his sister, who is shaking her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

“A tie,” she laughs. “A goddamn tie. Of _course_ this would happen. I knew this would happen.” Her voice drips with superiority, and Ephraim feels amusement loosen the knot in his chest. He looks at Innes, and sees he’s fighting a smile of his own.

“So Innes won,” Tana spells out slowly, “but Ephraim also won.” She bites her lip, tugs at one of her braids. “I don’t remember what the rules say about a tie, but I think it says that the man who challenged the other person can marry her, if she, um, wants to. Something like that?”

Ephraim wipes his forehead. “Well, we don’t have a rulebook, so let’s go with that,” he says, and then turns to Eirika. “What do you say, sister?”

Eirika’s eyes dart to him just for a moment, and then to Innes. She walks over the arena, picking up Ephraim’s sword, and then walks over to Innes. “Okay,” she concedes. “So you didn’t want my answer when you asked me for your hand, because you insisted on doing this.”

Innes remains quiet. Ephraim realizes (with amusement) that Eirika is the only one in this arena who knows how to properly handle a sword.  
  
“You’re really infuriating,” Eirika goes on, and Innes flinches. “And stubborn, and prissy, and arrogant. So I…” she hesitates, and then smiles. “I don’t really get _why_ I love you, but I guess those are some of the reasons why?”

Innes’s face breaks out in a delighted grin, and Ephraim clears his throat before anything can happen, striding over and studying them.

“You can marry her, Innes,” Ephraim says, “although I’m sure she would’ve even without my blessing.” Eirika rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t deny it. “But if you hurt her, I’m going to wreck your face. Understood?”

“I won’t,” Innes says, and Ephraim finally allows a smile to slip on his face.

“I know.” He keeps his eyes on Eirika, who sports a very similar smile to his. “I think she picked an okay guy.”


End file.
